Through a Westward Portal
by Aurore Nouveau
Summary: The curse has been broken and Sophie is finally finding that happily-ever-afters can happen to the eldest of three, but with Howl around, things are not likely to go as planned. Somewhere a door to disaster is opening! Takes place btn HMC and CitA. R&R!


**Author's Note:** This is a "what if" story I've developed that occurs between _Howl's Moving Castle_ and _Castle in the Air_ by Diana Wynne Jones. There will more than likely be spoilers leaked throughout the entire thing, so **if you haven't read either of these books, I wouldn't read this**, unless you really don't mind the spoilers. Enjoy!

I do not in any way claim to own any of the concepts or characters portrayed in this story. Anything else is purely coincidence.

**Chapter One - In Which Many Facts Are Revealed**

"Sophie," said Martha, "the spell's off you! Did you hear?"

"Sophie!"

"_Sophie_!"

"SOPHIE!"

Sophie woke in her little cubby beneath the staircase to the blur of morning light shining down upon her through a crevice in the wall into her sleepy blue-green eyes. She was very dazed and not quite sure whether she had dreamed the events of the last couple of months past, though mysteriously she felt quite rested, and as she leaned up onto her elbows from the little cot, she caught a glimpse of a single strand of red-gold hair glinting in the light before her cloudy eyes…

"Sophie," called a familiar voice from behind the blue-stained curtains hanging over the tiny threshold, "breakfast is ready!"

Though it was probably very nearly noon, it felt as though it were dawn, therefore leaving Sophie quite disoriented. The most common things around her seemed foreign.

"What a peculiar dream," Sophie muttered, eyes half shut.

Startlingly, a hand magically appeared akimbo to her shoulders -- the night shift she wore hanging loosely from them -- which ripped open the drapes with the sort of vigor that one generally dislikes after drearily awakening somewhat disturbed.

"No! Don't! I'm not decent!" Sophie shouted, grabbing up the bed clothes to her chest for fear of whom it may be ripping the curtains off their hangers.

To her infinite relief, it was Lettie, Sophie's younger, prettier sister, who ducked in smiling sweetly upon her elder sister as the scent of gardenias filled the tiny space. She bade Sophie good morning, who quietly sighed and lay back onto her pillow still dreary-eyed and disoriented and very confused and somewhat dizzy from the rush of blood that had suddenly flooded to her head. Her sister lay a soft, white hand against her cheek to check for fever. It then occurred to Sophie that she probably looked a complete wreck.

"Lettie," she mumbled, "oh, Lettie, I had the worst dream last night."

"Really, dear? That's terrible to hear. Tell me what it was about. You don't look so good."

Sophie mentally shrugged off the last part, taking solace in the fact that her sister actually cared to listen to her babble about her wild subconscious imagination.

"Well, it's all very strange, you see," she began, drawing for breath and trying to keep awake. "I dreamt that I had been turned into an old woman, that I met a fire demon and a wizard's apprentice, that I'd destroyed the Witch of the Waste while simultaneously recovering the whereabouts of two missing men, and that I'd actually fallen in love with the infamous Wizard Howl! It was terrible! And all the time, I had the most horrible rheumatism! What a nightmare!"

As Sophie lay there in quiet self-pity, hoping and expecting her sister to be sympatheic and nurturing, Lettie began to laugh, and she could not for all the flowers in May see why it was so very deliciously humorous to laugh at her frightful dream. It was unforgivable! Sophie was cantankerous and sleepy! Quite unable to maintain even a little restraint of her fearsome temper at such an hour, Sophie became quite miffed and threw herself out of bed in a fit…

Where she smartly hit her head on a banister.

"Oh, Sophie, I'm sorry! Do be careful!" Lettie prissily exclaimed, cupping her hands to her delicate little mouth. "You've got to take your time and get used to your body again! Especially after the day you've just had."

"Again? What are you talking about? Are _you_ feeling alright?"

Lettie suppressed a laugh as she steadied her wobbling sister onto the bed.

"Well, as it turns out, Sophie dear, your dream wasn't… um… exactly a dream after all. All those things you described actually happened. Infact, you're still living in Wizard Howl's castle, though really it's more of a rubbish heap."

The last part, of course, was stiffled under Lettie's breath.

"What!?"

It was as if the world had suddenly fallen out from beneath her, and Sophie then began to feel very dizzy and slightly nauseated, but mostly hungry as the wafting aroma of breakfast was getting to her. She fell back onto her pillow again with her hand warily clutching the sore spot on her forehead as the pain throbbed and throbbed and probably wouldn't cease to throb until a nice, fat goose egg had formed there. But in that instant, the course of events all came rushing back to her in one great big, confusing, jumbled, post-traumatic-experience, psychological-whirl of doom, and Sophie realized that her nightmare was very much a strange reality. Every slime-coated part of it.

It was turning out to be a really, _really_ bad morning.

Things didn't get too much better when Howl, in all of his gaudy attractiveness, bounded over much to Lettie's dismay to see what was keeping "The Lady of the House", as Fanny so graciously put it the day before, from arousing out of bed.

"No! Don't! I'm not decent!" Sophie shouted as she heard the jocularity of his footsteps on the floorboards, scrambling to gather the bed clothes again.

"Sophie, my darling! Rise and shine! It's a lov--" Howl chimed rather jubilantly before clipping the end off of his last sentence.

He stopped jigging and his face went from a dazzling smile and sparkling eyes to what looked like repugnance. Or maybe it was bewilderment?

"My, you're looking… You're eh… Sophie, you look horrible."

She shot him _the look_, the look that every man gets some time in his life, the look that was instilled into his brain during conception, the look that threatened to take his very life.

"Though it is a drastic improvement as compared to how you've looked for the last couple of months! Err… I mean, you're beau--"

"She hit her head," Lettie interrupted, curtly and with extra emphasis on the _hit_. "She needs some air. I'm going to take her upstairs."

Howl muttered something in Welsh, which one could only assume to be a curse or possibly a threat, and Lettie very nearly retorted herself.

The two stared at each other for a short moment, flames of contempt blazing in their eyes, holding back a quarrel for the sake of "propriety", otherwise known as Sophie. Howl felt the insatiable urge to take Lettie by the neck and feed her to a Lubbock; Lettie desperately wanted to see Howl trampled upon by the moving castle at a terrifying pace. Both were advocates for unconfrontationalism, it seemed.

"Right you are," Howl politely added as if translating, though he'd had a more snide remark in mind. "Fix her up, will you? Have a little sisterly chat and all that."

"Yes. I believe that I am more than qualified for the job," said Lettie, sweetly.

Lettie shoved Howl out of the way as she slowly helped a woozy Sophie to the staircase, which to her, seemed further up than she remembered. The blood coursing through her body only seemed to make her even more sluggish, and the spinning effect it added to the room made it that much more difficult to see.

"Good morning, Sophie," Calcifer called cheerfully from the grate in the hearth, flames blazing brightly about the logs upon seeing her. He was in a fairly pleasant mood that morning, despite being made to slave over breakfast for ten people. Sophie in turn gave him a strange look as she ascended to the bathroom, and this completely ruined his delightful temperament.

"What's wrong with her?" Calcifer asked, feeling rather hurt; the tips of his blue-flamed head began to flicker heatedly into green as the flames died down into the logs.

"Her sister," Howl snapped, trying to keep his head on straight.

"Well, I'd _really_ hate to see how she wakes up to you, then," Calcifer spat dryly.

* * *

"So… all of this really _did_ happen? I'm not delusional? Well, I think I'm not," Sophie contradicted.

"Yes, Sophie. For the fifth time, this isn't a dream," Lettie sighed, rinsing the soap out of her sister's long, strawberry blonde hair while pinning it to dry into soft, natural curls.

"I'm sorry, Lettie. I guess it's just a little overwhelming now that the havoc is over, mostly. I feel entirely myself now that I'm partially awake, though the dizziness hasn't quite worn off yet."

"You'll be fine. You just need food is all. Yesterday was quite a day for you… I can't believe you ran off to save that Wizard like that!"

" Indeed, though I was quite tired of all the rubbish Miss Angorian, ehm… the Witch of the Waste was putting me through! I don't want to be old again for a very, _very_ long time! Of course, I don't know what it was all for, seeing as Howl hasn't changed a bit since he got his heart back. The things I tolerate!"

"Neither do I, Sophie dear, which is why he's all yours," teased Lettie, stiffling a tone of resent.

Sophie blushed a deep shade of pink and began to fiddle with the suds in the steamy water.

"Actually, I'm quite happy with the way things have turned out," she said nearly besotted. "Besides, it's loads better than living a dull life as a hat maker. I can do things on my own now, strange things, too. Lettie… I think I'm a witch."

"Yes, Sophie," Lettie said as though she were talking to a child, "you're a witch, and so am I. It's a recessive gene we've inherited. But I've also learned a ton of my magic from Mrs. Fairfax, and she will teach it to you, too, I'm sure."

"But Mrs. Fairfax is getting old with a business to run, and besides, I've got Howl to teach me things… When he gets around to it."

"Oh yes, the _infamous_ Wizard Howl! How silly of me to relinquish the idea of a proper education. But I suppose it's all well and fine since the King has now officially proclaimed him the new Royal Wizard," Lettie said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Sophie's face went white as her eyes became as wide as saucers.

"What?!" She exclaimed, gripping the rims of the porcelain tub. "This is horrible! Howl _is_… _will_ possibly be the **worst** Royal Wizard in the history of… ever!"

"Yes, I know," sighed Lettie with sympathy.

"What about Ben Suliman? I thought he was supposed to reprise the position! Is the king mad?!"

"Well, that can only be left to speculation, dear, but Ben has decided that he, or rather, _we_, will be sticking to more independent tasks henceforth."

"Oh? Independent? Since when did you two become a we?" Asked Sophie in suspense-filled delight, completely casting her own relationship troubles aside.

"… Since Ben proposed to me just last night!" Lettie squealed giddily.

She held up her left hand where a spangled golden ring rested securely around her slender finger. Sophie drew her swollen hands from the water, dripping some over the side of the tub as she grasped her sister's hand to inspect the glorious jewel attached to it. It was a lovely green emerald embedded into a filigree band, cut in the shape of a diamond. Sophie was immediately jealous.

"Lettie… It's beautiful! I'm so happy for you," she said smiling, green with envy.

Lettie blushed in all of her radiant beauty, and said, "Well, I should only hope I'll make as good a wife as he thinks."

"Please," Sophie scoffed, knowing all too well that her sister was pining for appraisal. "You'll be an excellent wife! He _is_ the lucky man, you know. I can just imagine all the poor chaps who will be crying on your wedding day, wishing it was them at the altar instead!"

Lettie laughed in her usual coy little way as it reverberated off of the tiled walls, then became very serious and took Sophie's wet hand into her dry ones.

"Sophie, I want you to be my maid of honor," she said bluntly.

"What! Really?"

"Yes, of course! I couldn't have anyone else but you. Please say yes! Oh, please!"

Sophie was speechless. She had only ever been in one wedding, and that was when her father re-married to Fanny, but she never imagined she would have the chance again, or that she would want to. There was no way she could say no, especially not to Lettie, though she knew it would turn out to be the wedding of the century.

"I… would be honored," she said with a smile.

"Good! Oh, good! And you'll help me with the planning?"

"Of course!"

"Well then, that's settled. Come, let's get you out of this water before you turn into a prune."

And so, Lettie helped Sophie into a new, freshly pressed blue satin gown, pinched the color back into her cheeks, and dabbed rose water here and there to complete the effect. She was as lovely as a May flower, and as they left bathroom, the aroma of drama and burnt bacon filled the air.

Lettie came down the staircase first, Sophie closely following behind, where she abruptly came to a stop, dropped the hem of her skirts, and threw her hands up in shock as a gasp escaped her perfectly pink lips. Sophie, who could not see over her sister's styled head, nearly fell past her into a pile of hot bacon grease scattered before them in the floor.

"Oh, my!" Lettie shrieked.

"What the blue blazes is going on," Sophie shouted, quite perturbed.

The clatter of pots and pans, knives, forks, spoons, bowls, plates, a rolling pin, cups and saucers, and a bottle of unopened Porthaven wine came crashing about to the floor with a deafening clutter. There was food everywhere. Good food. Breakfast. Already less than an hour awake and the house was coming to chaotic ruin, Sophie thought.

"Sophie! Tell the kitchenware to stop all the ruckus! Hurry before Michael makes it worse!" Calcifer yelled, cowering from beneath the grate.

"I should have known," Sophie mumbled, rolling her eyes with frustration.

Lettie let her pass, stepping gingerly about the bacon grease in the floor and crept into the cubby beneath the staircase, where it was, perhaps, the only place that was safe. Sophie quickly jumped into the chaotic scene of flying food and crashing cookware -- dodging cutlery and eggs alike -- put her foot down (quite literally and figuratively), squeezed her eyes shut, and shouted as loudly and authoritatively as she knew best for the insanity to "**STOP**" before anything else could go horribly wrong.

At that very instant, everything that was in the air came face to face with gravity about Sophie's skirts with a messy "schlop". There was nary a nook or cranny that wasn't covered in food or shattered glass. Michael, his face as red as a beet, came out from beneath the work bench along with Martha and Fanny, scratching his thick head of hair, and looking utterly pathetic.

"Err… Sorry, Sophie! I really am! I was trying to show Martha the spell you showed me the other day for levitating the plates to the table, but half way through I forgot the rhyme, and… well, I sort of made up the rest, then everything went flying," Michael bellowed, very nearly ready to kneel on hand and foot to beg forgiveness.

Sophie only sighed, getting more agitated by the minute, and said, "And where exactly is _Howl_?"

"Err…," mumbled the boy.

"He and Wizard Suliman disappeared just shortly after you retreated upstairs," said Martha, patting her poor Michael on the back. "They said they would be back in time to eat."

"Figures…," Sophie mumbled. She felt like cursing to high heaven, but to her great misfortune, the one person she most wanted to curse wasn't currently present. "Well, I suppose we should clean this up before they get back, else other disasters are apt to occur."

At this Michael reddened even more, though he was the first to start cleaning. No doubt there would be a tongue lashing in store for him when Howl got back. He promised not to tell where he'd gone, but apparently Martha, being the keen girl she was, had already overheard.

"I wish I knew a spell for instant clean up," Lettie added, "but Mrs. Fairfax didn't get around to teaching me. In fact, that was right about the time Ben arrived in the form of that shaggy dog and things really began to happen."

Howl knows one, Sophie thought, though he isn't _here_ to **DO** it!

In defeat, she hitched the hems of her skirts up about her knees with clothes pins and began to sweep the mess of food into a large pile in the middle of the floor. She would have to clean the broom at least a good five times in order to get the majority of the muck up, move all of the furniture outside, sweep again, vigorously scrub the floors for who knows how long, wait for it all to dry another couple of hours, move all of the furniture back in, and by the time all of this was done, it could very well be close to midnight with the absence of Howl's help. Then there was the issue of replacing all of the dishware, plucking the knives and forks out of various places, and –

"Good lord!" Exclaimed the voice Sophie had been waiting to hear as the port knob turned blue-side up, the door nearly swinging off its hinges. "I go away for a few minutes and the house falls to ruin?!"

How convenient, thought Sophie bitterly.

"Sophie! I've told you repeatedly not to get carried away with new spells! Now look what you've done! _My_ breakfast is on the floor!"

"Howl! You… You…," Sophie stammered irately, trying to remember an insult she had heard him use once, "You pillock! Where were you when all of this was happening?!"

"That is not of any great importance, to _you_ Mrs. **Nose**, so just keep to your own business if you please," Howl retorted indignantly.

Sophie scoffed. She couldn't believe he was doing this to her now, this early! Putting on his act again, playing up the victim in another unjust accusation by horrible, self-righteous Sophie so he could slip away with his old mate for a bit of late camaraderie. Well, she wasn't about to let him escape this one!

"Oh, really? You think I'm going to let you off with that, do you? Well, while you were out on your little reunion, Michael here has gone and done us all a service by sending breakfast to the floor! YOU were supposed to be _watching_ him!"

Michael, feeling ashamed at his sheer lack of capability in handling magic, hung his head feeling as though he was one burden too many for Sophie to handle. Howl immediately recognized his awkward apprentice's crushed spirits and used it as a means to change the subject whilst simultaneously casting his guilt onto someone else.

"Sophie, how can you be so cruel as to pulverize young Michael's hopes like that?" Howl said, placing a hand on the boy's hung head, unmistakably milking the situation. "You know he's only an apprentice with much still to learn, and therefore prone to mistakes. Have a heart!"

This, however, was only making Michael feel all the worse, and Sophie all the angrier.

"Pft! A heart, indeed! Even though I gave yours back just yesterday, it doesn't seem to be working correctly! I think you're in need of resuscitation!"

At this remark, Howl beat his fist to his chest and acted as though brutally wounded.

"You're a wicked, _wicked_ woman, Sophie Hatter! Absolutely horrible, you are! I can't bear your abuse any longer," he said melodramatically, stomping heavily off to his room in a tantrum.

"Well, good riddance, then," Sophie called after him. She then went back to sweeping the heaping mass of food off of the floor, feeling exploited again. "Like a child, he is!"

Immediately after her sister's little skirmish, Lettie finally came out from the cubby beneath the staircase and ran to her secretly affianced in a warm greeting. "Ben, I've been wondering where you were. What were you two up to?"

"Oh, nothing, really. Just getting reacquainted is all," said Wizard Suliman casually. "There's much we've still to discuss. Things have really changed in the past few years, though I see the one thing that hasn't changed a bit is him!"

Sophie laughed in agreement, though it was the sharp, sarcastic huff of a lover scorned.

"Oh! Let me help you there," said Suliman, taking note of the hard manual labor being performed in several areas of the room. With the flick of a finger and the chant of a spell, the culinary catastrophe dissolved into thin air right before everyone's eyes as if the entire thing had never occurred. "I believe that should fix things."

A gasp came from the corner, the source being a thoroughly marveled Fanny, who had opened a cupboard only to find that all the broken plates, cups, and saucers had been returned to their respectful places – whole! She picked a tea cup up and inspected it, murmuring, "Not a single crack…"

"Oh, Ben! You're wonderful," cried Lettie, hanging on his arm upon seeing the advanced manner of his wizardly skill.

"Yeah, that's some spell," Michael agreed in complete admiration. "Howl never does anything like this. He usually just makes me or Sophie clean it up, then we end up having to go out and buy new ones. Plates are expensive, you know."

"That's because Howl is a _moron_," Sophie spat, red-faced. She was still very miffed at him for treating her so badly.

"I can still hear you, oh heartless one!" Howl shouted from his room.

"GOOD," Sophie retorted.

"Enough already," Calcifer crackled. "I'm tired of all this incessant fighting. You two must really be in love to keep together with such tempers."

Sophie blushed and shrugged off Calcifer's comment, placing the broom in its correct spot in the scrap yard next to the kitchen. Then she turned to Suliman, and said kindly, "Anyway, thank you, Wizard Suliman. You'll have to teach me that spell later so that I can clean up future incidences just as easily."

"Please," said Suliman, holding up his palm in protest to Sophie's polite formality, "call me Ben."

"Ben, of course," she agreed with a nod. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, my dear! I'd be glad to teach you the spell. After all, we are as good as family."

Quite suddenly there came a tremor from the upper level as if something heavy had just plummeted to the floor, threatening to create another mess to clean. Soon after, the sound of frenetic footsteps became apparent on the staircase where they halted instantly upon decent. Of course, everyone knew it was Howl, but he came down just as majestically as he had come, pretending as though the clamor had never occurred at all. There was a mischievous glint in his Welsh-green eyes, and Sophie suspected yet more trouble.

"Correct me if I am mistaken, my good man, but did I just hear you say that you were 'as good as family'?"

"Aye, that you did," Suliman replied.

Wizard Suliman gave a look to Lettie as if to suggest they tell the room some well-kept secret. She looked at him, whispered something into his ear, he nodded, they both nodded, and finally 

neither could hold it in any longer. Suliman took Lettie's little white hand in his and kissed it. Then it was obvious as to what was coming.

"Everyone," Lettie said, breathily, "Ben has asked me to marry him…"

There were a few feminine squeals, the giddy clap of hands, then a pause of silence and several pairs of eyebrows rose. The suspense filled the air with tension as all awaited Lettie's exciting reply – all but Sophie, who already knew and pretended to act stunned. She knew the reaction that was coming, and therefore prepared her irritated nerves for the tolerance of it.

"… And I've said yes!" Came the jubilant reply.

Lots of applause and laughter, claps on the back, and kisses on the cheek ensued for the happy couple. Both Lettie and Suliman were blushing then, welcoming a chorus of congratulations, and shaking more hands while jokes passed back and forth betwixt them. Sophie went along with the rest, though she felt more like passing out from lack of nourishment.

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd settle down, Suliman" said Howl to his fellow countryman.

"Shocking, isn't?"

"Very," Howl said with sarcasm, wrapped fallaciously with enthusiasm.

Sophie gave him one of her looks, and he smiled charmingly back at her.

"I'm very happy for you both," said Sophie with sincerity.

"Oh, thank you, dear." Lettie winked. "You know, I think we should all go out on the town for a meal," she said, suddenly full of spontaneity.

"Yes," agreed Martha, "the occasion calls for it!"

"I'm hungry," Michael mumbled.

"And afterwards, we can go looking in the shoppes for dress materials," chimed Fanny, getting into the wedding hype. "Don't you agree, Sophie?"

"Yes, of course."

* * *

A.N.: The first quote is sole property of DWJ, and so is the bit about the Lady of the House, though that really wasn't a quote.

Also, I've edited this chapter, yet again, by combining it with the second chapter, which I felt would help to increase the flow of things. I'm trying to make the chapters a bit longer so they don't seem so pointless.


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